As Julian's thumb moved towards the detonator, Mo Chen moved.
She was a blur. She twisted out of his grip, her hand snapping up to grab his wrist. At the same time, she unleashed her [Immolate] ability.
A stream of blue-white plasma, hot as a star, erupted from her palm. She didn't aim it at Julian. She aimed it at the detonator in his hand. The device vaporized instantly, along with the top half of his thumb.
Julian screamed, a raw, shocked sound of agony. He stared at his mangled hand, then at her, his eyes wide with terror and disbelief.
" You… what are you?" he gasped.
" I'm the interest on your debt," Mo Chen snarled.
From the shadows, Silas and his team emerged like wraiths. There were three quick, muffled thumps as the Thorne guards were taken down with tranquilizer darts.
Silas was on Julian in an instant, clamping a hand over his mouth to stifle his screams and pinning him to the ground.
" The gas!" Mo Chen said, her voice sharp.
Silas nodded to one of his men, who was already at the gas meter, shutting off the flow and activating powerful fans to ventilate the area. The trap had been sprung perfectly.
Mo Chen stood over Julian, who was writhing on the ground, his eyes bulging with pain and fear. The pretty, golden heiress was gone. In her place stood a figure of ash and fire, her wedding gown smudged, her eyes burning with cold fury.
" It's over, Julian," she said. "The snipers are dead. Your men are captured. Your father's empire is finished."
The sound of sirens began to wail in the distance. Silas had made the anonymous call to the authorities, directing them to the evidence of Thorne Global's conspiracy and attempted mass murder.
The fairytale wedding was over. The reckoning had begun.